Blog Posts by Mommy Tracked

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by Leslie Morgan Steiner (Two Cents on Working Motherhood)

Good god, sometimes I don't know whether I can take the mommy wars anymore.

The latest salvo: invention, by stay-at-home moms, of the derogatory term "weekend mother" to describe women who work for pay outside their homes from Monday through Friday (or some other period).

The implication being that working moms can not give as much love and attention to their children as stay-at-home mothers.

"They're not there," one stay-at-home mother said of working mothers. "Most of the working moms I know, all they have time for is dinner and bath time. They're not really spending time with their kids."

Oh dear.

The debate raged on Facebook about this moniker and then was picked up by newspapers, including the Sacramento Bee. Writer (and mom) Niesha Lofing wrote in her own defense:

"The 'weekend mother' label certainly hit a pressure point in my brain. I thought good parents were the ones who engaged in their

by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor (Make Mine a Double)

Two year-olds do this thing where they really seem to be listening, talking it all in, just getting you. And then they pull the old switcheroo. "I know you want ice cream, Sadie," I say. "But first we have to have breakfast, which by the way is the most important meal of the day. After we have breakfast, we'll watch another Dora or two, hit the park, come home, have lunch and then it is highly possible we'll enjoy a delicious ice cream cone -or delicioso! As Dora would say.

"I want ice cream, mommy. Do you want ice cream?" Sadie hasn't heard a word I've said. Maybe I should've paused the TV.

"I love ice cream. Only mommy can't have any for awhile because right now she can only fit into sweatpants and even in the sweatpants arena she's pretty much down to one pair. It's not good. But I'll be fine with a sugar-free tapioca." Sadie looks at me and nods like we're totally on the same page.

"Ice cream is yummy. I wannit" Now

Read more Funny Papers at MommyTracked.com

by Jennifer Sey (Around the Watercooler)

I don't generally take vacations. Even before the recession friendly "stay-cation" became popular (and got a name), I took them. My husband hates to fly and I don't like being trapped in a Corolla with two kids on long car trips. So we always settled on doing nothing.

I'd take a week off, hang out at home with my kids, doing stuff I don't usually get to do with them. Take them to school, pick them up, get an afternoon ice cream cone. I'd clean the closets and the junk drawers. And tell myself this was just what I needed. In between maybe I'd catch a movie or get a pedicure. Throughout, I'd check my work email. And voice mail. Call in for the odd meeting here and there. In the end, this was not so relaxing.

This year I decided I'd take an actual vacation even if the hubbie didn't want to go. He opted out which would usually be enough for me to give in to the stay-cation out of guilt (shouldn't I spend my time off with him?) But I

by Jenifer Wana

Like any parents, my husband and I wanted to find the best preschool for our son Josh-a preschool that would nurture him, teach him, and be a good fit for our family. But I quickly learned that this would not be as easy as it seemed.

I was over whelmed by the options-when I was growing up, kids just went to the nursery school closest to home, if they went at all. I didn't know where to begin to find the best preschools in my neighborhood or what characteristics defined a high-quality program. Terms like Montessori, child centered, and co-op were foreign to me.

What I also discovered about the preschool process was that there is no process. Unlike applying to college, there are no standard time lines or admissions procedures that all nursery schools follow-and very few resources to help parents navigate the process. So I decided to write one.

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Read more Funny Papers at MommyTracked.com

by Leslie Morgan Steiner (Two Cents on Working Motherhood)

Way back in 1990 during my first week of business school, a second-year male student I'd met at the campus pub was ruminating - obnoxiously -- on his future career. For those not familiar with b-school students, we can be obsessed - with ourselves, our careers, our future prospects. Pretty calculating, self-centered and generally nauseating overall. Of course I listened carefully - with similar self-interest, in case I might learn something that would help ME.

"The first few years are key," he mapped out, sipping his beer. "Getting the best job in the most highly compensated industry before graduation, getting promoted within a year, establishing myself as a killer, you know, living and breathing my work. No dating, no family, no vacations, nothing. After about five years it will get easier."

He didn't give a reason. I went for the bait. "Why then?"

"All the women will have had kids by then. I won't have to